


Eloquent Vipers & Nimble Fingers

by Romanticized_Manipulation



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Canon Universe, Catholic Guilt, Child Abuse, Cock Slut, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Fantasizing, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Religious Guilt, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanticized_Manipulation/pseuds/Romanticized_Manipulation
Summary: Credence catches sight of a dapper man and feels the need to get rid of some tense feelings.Is the lack of a paternal figure finally getting to him?The tags will become relevant as I go along.Religious guilt and child abuse -- so please be weary.





	1. Invasive Thoughts

The clouds hung low from the polluted sea above; The smell of city and overdue rain overtakes the clean air. The cold clatter of two toned oxfords softly reverberated across the ice-enclosed stone. Leaflets within grasp, Credence fingers pressed into the sinful text. His abused hands trembled anxiously from the cold air temperature. He kept quiet as unknown shapes of colour rushed by him, and faint whispers of hatred passed by him, making the young one's shoulders hunch up into more of an awkward position than before.  
  
_Freak._

This boy kept his head low, trying to avoid any undesired attention of himself—even though he was giving an attempt to hand pamphlets out. The strands of his short, raven-coloured hair wildly blew from the frozen gusts, and his face began to numb from the sharp blades of wind. Credence's eyelashes fluttered slightly, only for a moment, looking up and across the street for a split second. He met eyes with another. This individual was dressed in a dapper three-piece, his feet enclosed in glossed-over, wing-tipped shoes, and a desaturated blue scarf hung around his neck. The gentleman locked eyes with the chilled boy for a few seconds. This caused Credence to lose focus, as well as the grip of his leaflets.

He stumbled about, his fumbling fingers failing to grab the papers. The thin things flung themselves up into the air as if they wanted to escape his shaky hands. He seemed to involuntarily slip out a soft grumble of defeat. The handsome stranger had seemed to vanish from his sight. Credence's lips were slightly parted, trembling as tears built up in his dark eyes. He went silent and hunched over again, yet his steps were almost eager. It was almost like he wanted to be punished—routine one would suppose. He hadn't been too far from home, only traveling a block or two down the city sidewalks. The bottom of his shoes gave off light _clicks_ while quickly making his way up the front stairs of his home. 

As the boy entered the building, he whispered a short prayer to give thanks for making it back safely. His cold hands placed down his pamphlets (well, the ones he was able to salvage from the little accident earlier) onto one of their side tables that had a couple lit candles to add illumination to the home. In a fluid motion, he swung his coat off, carefully placing it on the hook near the front entrance. The young man said his greetings to his two sisters before sliding into his quarters, pressing his spine up against the wood of the closed door. Alone at last.

 

***

Credence pressed the side of his face into his mattress, his stomach flat on the sheets. As soon as he cautiously unbuttoned his pants, faint, almost silent pants escaped from his flushed lips. And, his porcelain skin is dusted with a light rose colour across his cheeks. The boy had already been radiating lustful heat from below, which he suppresses most of the time, but something was different in him this day. Credence allowed his eyelids to close.  
  
"The man... Watching me. _Please touch me._ Nono... I'm sorry. Make me yours. No. I.."  
  


He muttered little things to himself as a fantasy invaded his pure mind, his body taking most of the control. His fingers intertwined with the sheets as goosebumps rose across his pale skin, and his hips bucked against the padded thing beneath him to some rhythmic, sexual reverie playing about in his head. He was blessed. Mary Lou had been out running errands; it was the perfect time to act out any desires.

A sudden heat came over Credence's body, and soon enough, he was frantic to remove his clothes. His body was soft and ivory against the pale brown sheets while prominent scars danced over his backside and shoulder blades gruesomely. Then, he brought himself to wrap his fingers around his flushed cock, but before, for a moment he observed the wet spot he had created only moments before. Credence pressed his face back into the mattress, this time pumping his cute prick in staggered movements. Finally, he slipped out little cries, always having been afraid to let his voice break free like that. His vocal cords let out strings of effeminate groans and quiet whimpers of fear. At this point, the pleasure just overwhelmed the guilt. If something felt so good, how could it be evil? 

Credence was in heaven. His body trembled as he neared climax, unable to contain the sounds that escaped from the back of his throat. The boy lifted his hips up into the air, his little hole clenching wildly, in need something—or someone. Credence's back tensed up, thighs quivering, his flushed face pressed into the covers. "Yes... Sir." He hotly whispered while moaning eagerly. The teen's cum covered his hand and thighs which made him let out a cry of excitement and fright. 

  


He needed someone there. His beautiful, untouched body _pleaded_ for some sort of contact besides his own. _Someone. Anyone._ He felt unclean thinking about the man on the street— the way he gazed at him, the blue scarf that could tie him down, the finely tailored suit of a gentleman.

Credence twitched from his orgasm, his hips grinding against the air. Suddenly, just a moment or two later Mary Lou opened the door hastily, a disgusted look smattered across her sneering expression. Chastity stood behind her (She was quite a little, chirping bird, you see. Modesty was the kinder one).

"Credence." Mary Lou spat at the boy. Both women staring at his raw form.

"Ma... I-I.." Credence's lips trembled as stuttered. He shakily stood up, his face slightly contorting as a couple tears already made their way down his cheeks.

"Shut your mouth. You disgusting _freak_. I should have never let you poison my home like this." She stood with her hand out, her eyes filled with inextinguishable flames and her upper lip curled with displeasure.

Willingly, Credence crouched down to find his belt, slowly pulling the long thing from its loops, his arm trembling as he placed it down into her palm. She gripped hold of his hair, tugging him down the stairs.

"I expect no less than three rosaries," Mary Lou whispered in a brutal tone as she dragged him into the small chapel attached to their home, throwing him down onto the isle. "You should be praying, you ungrateful-"

Credence sobbed, closing his eyes tightly as he began whispering prayers of forgiveness. His bare body completely exposed, semen drizzled across his thighs and digits. _God_ could see what he had done, and he was a naughty child.


	2. Touch-Starved Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aHHH. **hERE YOU GO yOU LIL NASTIES.!!**  
>  ***CHAP 2 IS HERe*** aka Credence being Daddy's lil slut
> 
> Long hours of HP soundtracks and ASMR got this done.. yay its longgg
> 
> excuse the mistakes. I'm only one person. :')

It was another cold day. The time was quickly counting down until Christmas time—which Credence expected to spend alone, just like any other day. The temperature was, at least, a bit milder than yesterday's weather. The wind was almost nonexistent. Yet, the cruel world stayed the same; no weather change could have ever mended that situation. There was the sound of heavy footsteps, crunching ice from horse hooves, the sound of screaming advertisements. Credence stood in the middle of it all. The introspective boy had been forced to make a fool out of himself again, his quivering hands filled with nonsensical leaflets. 

Not to mention, his body was covered in fresh, red strips of abuse. Every inch of him stung in some way beneath the fabric of his garments. Every slouch, every shifting movement brought a shameful sense to the Barebone boy's mind. 

The embarrassed child had been standing in the cold for a good quarter of an hour. No one seemed to the slightest bit of interest in his pamphlets. Suddenly, _someone_ had grabbed ahold of one of the papers. Credence awkwardly began to speak, his eyes focusing on the man's wing-tipped oxfords. Slowly, made their way up toward the human in front of him. It was _the man_ —the handsome gentleman Credence had locked eyes with just the other day. He suddenly felt a wave of nausea come over him. This was the man he had fantasized about; the one he imaged fucking him like a wolf in heat; the one that made him feel lustful. **Sinful**. 

"Boy," the man in front of him said in his deep, warm voice. Credence felt compelled to hear more of it, like a young child, completely fascinated with some new toy. This stranger continued to speak, "What's your name?" 

The boy looked up at him once again, averting his eyes as he spoke, "C-Credence... Sir. Credence B-Barebone."

"I'm Graves. Percival Graves. How old are you?" The dapper stranger gave Credence an inquisitive look, his eyes slightly narrowed in interest. Then, a quick handshake was exchanged.

"Eighteen."

Graves smirked, himself at nearly forty, "Mm. How much do you know about _magic_ , my boy?"

As soon as the boy heard such a word, his body became tense, filled with an unexplainable emotion. He swallowed thickly before giving his answer, "I know it's sinful. Ma says so."

"You see, Ms. Goldstein sent me."

"O-oh."

"How about we go somewhere a little more private? Hm?" In one quick motion, Percival gripped ahold of Credence's arm, apparating across the street, to a quieter area (Of course, this had been done skillfully without any no-majs knowing. Graves _was_ one of the most skilled wizards at MACUSA). Credence stumbled about after they reappeared, clutching to his stomach, and the other hand pressed up against one of the brick walls that faced either side of them. Graves apologized for the spontaneity, standing up straight, and his chest was puffed out, almost in a macho way. "Credence, I need to know. Have you experienced anything out of the ordinary? Perhaps when you become angry or frightened? Do strange things happen?"

The Barebone boy fell into a silence, blinking a few times. Percival took this silence as a 'yes'.

"No," he answered reluctantly, rubbing his stinging palms together.

"There's no use in lying."

The young man whimpered softly as some sort of oral response. Graves sighed lightly, taking ahold of the boy's hand with a tender touch. Without even touching his wand, Percival ran his thumb over Credence's palm. The gentleman smiled gently as his injuries began to fade and heal within a matter of seconds.

"What they teach you about magic can't be that bad, now, can it?" Graves spoke gently into his ear. The boy's shoulders tense and hunch, his eyelashes fluttering uncomfortably. His breathing was staggered. He loved it, the feeling of being touched. The soft human contact drove him wild. It made his insides warm up like they never had before. Percy placed one of his warm hands against the boy's cheek, "You see, my boy, magic isn't just about the power... It's about being connected. I can teach you, Credence. You can be part of my world," he whispered, leaning in close to Credence, "Would you like that?" Credence nodded into the man's hand. He slowly pulled his palm down and away, but the young man protested, giving off some sound. His lips were slightly pouted. 

"D-don't let go of m-me," Credence whimpered, his digits pulling Graves' hand back up to meet with his cheek once more, "Touch me." 

Percy gave Credence a face—one eyebrow slightly cocked and the other furrowed, creating little worry creases in his forehead. 

"Anything... My boy." 

His hand pressed back up and against Credence's needy skin. The boy relished in the feeling of Percy's experienced, mildly-calloused hands. They were everything he was craving. Credence slipped out a small sigh of relief. His nose and lips were a rosy colour due to the temperature, but they had a sensual look to them.

"Mr. Graves, are you my father?"

"Do you want me to be?"

"I-I don't know. No... But s-something like that."

Percival allowed his hand to drop from the teen's face, stepping back. He could see the sweet neediness come across the boy's face and the soft, impatient whines that escape from his mouth.

"I want you to do something for me." 

Graves muttered into Credence's ear, the boy's slim figure shook and trembled beneath him. There were honks of shiny, new automobiles and the clicking of flappers' high heels on the cement outside of the alley. 

The Barebone boy's deep brown orbs flickered toward the street then back to the shadows. His voice trembled quietly as he stuttered his words, "Y-yes, Mr. Graves. What.. Do you want me to do?"

For a moment, Percy brought their bodies close, giving the boy more of the touch he longed for. Credence's head was tucked into the cashmere fabric of his suit jacket, his pale face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. This is what he wanted. This is what he always longed for. The boy then shuttered, his breathing becoming increasingly slower with every second. The auror's fingers were intertwined in the adolescent's raven hair, his hand pressed tightly to the back of his head, the bottom of his palm pressed to the back of his neck. Their tight embrace lasted for what seemed like minutes.

"Now, my _special_ boy," Graves speaks into his ear with a gentle, alluring voice, "Can you get down on your knees for me? Do it for _Daddy_."

"Y-yes... Mr. Graves." Credence complied, scrambling awkwardly to get down to the ground, his knees pressing into the dirty stone of the murky alley. "My pants... Ma will get angry," he frantically glanced down at where the fabric met the dirt of the earth.

"Shh... I'll clean you up. Magic, my boy."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're a very beautiful boy," Graves smirked, pressing his gloved thumb up against Credence's puffy lips. The gentleman bit down on his lower lip with a sign of interest flashing in his dark irises. Percy reached down, carefully opening up his pants, unhooking one button at a time, allowing his flaccid cock to hang from his pants. “Now, I want you to take me into your mouth like candy. Can you do that for me?”

“Ma’s never allowed me to have candy. She says it’s sinful.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to get you some, won’t I? Open up those pretty lips.” Graves slipped out a little chuckle from his chest, one corner of his lip perking slightly higher than the other. He places his thumb to Credence lower lip, the boy’s mouth falling open with caution. Percy then took his cock into his hand, pressing the head up against the innocent teen’s tongue, then further his warm mouth. The auror couldn’t help but release a guttural groan from his slightly parted lips, a few pants coming out afterward. The sensation was heavenly, from such a chilled environment to the boy’s soft, virgin mouth. “Don’t let your teeth touch it. Suck it good, my boy. You’ll get a nice reward. I promise you, and you know I would _never_ lie to you.” 

Of course, Credence placed all of his trust into the man. He was the singular being who wanted _him_. Credence Barebone was _wanted_ ; It had been his only desire. 

His eyes were half-lidded as he ran his lips and tongue up and down his now hardened cock. The way it stood firmly, in all its magical glory: _Beautiful_ , the boy thought, his eyes still filled with a sort of glimmering innocence even if he was in one of the most degrading scenarios he had ever been in.

He kept his legs closed tightly, one might suppose to keep the sin from escaping. It was pressing up against his pants—the _sin_. Obviously, Graves had noticed this, as he was extremely observant, no matter what the situation was. The boy continued his cock sucking, and Percy had explained how he wanted him to stroke it. And, Credence always did what he was told. The boy's hand pumped what he couldn't fit in his mouth. After some time, the man had become a bit impatient, as well as the Dom in him wanted to escalate things, so he grabbed hold of the young man's head, thrusting back into his tight throat. He drew out slowly before pounding back into his mouth, Percy's heavy balls smacking up against Credence's chin. This went on for a while, up until Graves reached his peak. The idea of being controlled in such a manner brought Credence up there too, but it wasn't enough to climax. 

Percival locked eyes with the timid boy as he masturbated himself, the head of his red, fat cock pressed to Credence's flushed lips.  
"Gorgeous," the man whispered hastily.  
Heavy grunts were let out into the air. The muscles in his back clenched up as his hot seed squirted out onto the youth's face. Credence allowed some small cry off approval to leave his mouth. 

"Oh, _Daddy_." 

Graves chuckled heartily, pleased with the little whore he'd created. "Let's go to my home. I'm sure your Ma wouldn't mind. Hm?" 

Credence whimpered and wrapped his arms around Graves' cashmere covered legs, caressing them gently. "O-only if you touch me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks for reading.  
> I'll be on break in a week, so my updating should be pretty fluid. It might be choppy this week due to projects and tests. 
> 
> I may or may not insert a little Christmas themed fluff and smut thing in the next chapter, just because... hOLIDAYS. What do you guys think?? 
> 
> Always, feedback is welcome -- each and every comment matters to me.  
> Leave a kudos if you _really_ enjoyed it. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I'm really new to this.. Sorry for the depressing start. Graves has to hop on in there.  
> I really hope you enjoy what I've written so far. Hopefully, next chapter we can see some direct action between Credence and Graves ;^)
> 
> Just wait, my lovelies.  
> Lol guys, I'm not British, but I do spell my 'or's with 'our's (like colour and favourite). 
> 
> Oh.. and sorry for the shortness of the chapter.  
>  **bUT PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE CREDENCE A HUG.**  
>  I take constructive criticism and compliments, so fire away!


End file.
